"clappy" poems
Black shoes, white shoes, preparing for my flight shoes,
High shoes, low shoes,beautiful peep toe shoes,
Business shoes, pleasure shoes, too perfect to measure shoes,
Wedding shoes, funeral shoes,running road and tunnel shoes,
Strappy shoes,ahh, ****** shoes, annoying clippy clappy shoes,
We really do need all of these,
While planning our lifes route,
But don't complain too much dear men,
I haven't started on my boots!!
Feb 18, 2010
Feb 18, 2010 at 4:29 AM UTC
sad bad
so no sad
sad happy
happy flappy
flappy clappy
dappy slappy
spousal abuse
May 14, 2015
May 14, 2015 at 8:24 AM UTC
Negativity is not always overtly depressive,
Positivity is not always overtly happy.
Negativity eats away, piece by piece.
It hides in the banal.
Its disguised by layers of colour,
Noise, applause.
Negativity is drip fed, unnoticed.
The bland
The ordinary
The acceptable
Even the comfortable.
Negativity keeps you in your place,
Convinces you
How good you’ve got it,
Fosters no hope,
Breeds joy in superficiality.
Negativity is not a natural state of mind.
No one wants it, yet
Its continually perpetuated by those
Who are blind to it.
Negativity tells you that Positivity is frivolous and childish,
Happy-clappy psycho-babble,
Is an immense effort, an uphill struggle,
A dream, stupid, deluded, unobtainable…
Well, it would, wouldn’t it? Its Negative.
Negativity sets you unattainable goals,
Holds up a false mirror,
Tells you that you need to be
What you can’t be…
But still you ache, drive, strive
To get there,
Concentrating all energy on it,
To the detriment of all else.
Jul 21, 2020
Jul 21, 2020 at 1:42 PM UTC
See, no one really wants to know the truth.
Parents like to pretend that their family is lovely, maybe even verging on sappy.
And that everything is oh so happy-clappy.
Nobody shows an interest in the overly-quiet child, they know not of her tortured youth.
Hugs and kisses, rare.
Broken bones and squashed wishes, that is how they show that they care.
Any doctor or paediatric psychiatrist will tell you, that a child at several junctions, while growing up, craves attention.
Was it beyond the comprehension?
Mommy and Daddy just get annoyed.
So, a sad little eight year old has to find something to fill the void.
One day that shiny metal catches her eye.
Drawn to it, almost as if she were a magpie.
Trust me people, something like this does not happen when one is simply bored.
Destructive behaviours such as these, usually strike when a person believes that something within themselves is fundamentally flawed.
The repetitive action of causing friction.
It soon becomes some form of a compulsion and/or an addiction.
Encounters with Mr Knife...
Become part of normal life.
Jan 4, 2015
Jan 4, 2015 at 8:32 AM UTC
Move on **** it!
I feel nothing but ****
The one I left
Bad, that's how she felt
I was the girl who was happy
clappy
but now i'm sad
and doesn't feel bad
for the sorrows i caused
I wish i can put everything to pause
ghost is what i want to feel
I don't want to keep peeling my mask off every night
it's such a fright
i'm done with this poem
so goodnight
Mar 26, 2015
Mar 26, 2015 at 2:09 PM UTC
today, somewhere where it smells of corn and fire, there was a man in the moon.
his smile was shining and there’s no denying the rhythm in his shoes.
everyone smiled while passing by and listen as I say there was a moonshine twinkle in his eye.
the old man with the clippy clappy tip tappin shoes, dancing under the moon for me and for you.
Jun 10, 2018
Jun 10, 2018 at 12:44 AM UTC